Page 25 of Artfully Wild
Yes, you are. *winky face emoji*
Little Sparrow
Are you flirting with me, Mr. Sinclair?
Would it be okay if I was?
Several knocks sound through the house startling almost all of the dogs. They start a chorus of barking and I glance at the top right of my screen to see it’s almost midnight. I get up and dress quickly, grab sweatpants from the floor and decide not to waste time throwing on a shirt. I have maybe a minute or two left before I get a call from two old ladies yelling at me to keep the noise down.
Shuffling my way through the crowd of dogs, the smallestbeing two beagle siblings and the largest a ten year old German shepherd named Archibald, who actually came to the shelter from the Waters family. Skylar and Sarah found him on the side of the road coming home from a family trip. As soon as they saw him, George didn’t hesitate to pull over to bring him back. He’s been with me since. He’s a sophisticated kind of guy and has a very particular diet, and likes this collar a certain way. People would always joke that he has “dog anxiety” until I agreed with them and went on to explain that’s exactly what he has. They tend to tune out after that.
Over the years, I’ve come to find that usually when people are looking to adopt a pet, they want something that won’t disrupt their lives too much, when in reality, if you really want a pet, that means youwantto disrupt your life. You want something to desire your attention 24/7 and miss you when you’re gone. Sure, they might tear up some furniture or some curtains, but they’ll love you with everything they have for the rest of their lives, that’s for sure.
I pass Archibald and give him a pat on the head. He’s been with me through everything really. From puberty to school, to more school, and well, more school. He was there for every late night study session along with Skylar who always helped with the flashcards, even though she didn’t understand any of it.
Skylar.
Fuck, it felt so good to finally kiss her. Totouchher. Hell I’ve touched her plenty over the years and I’ve hugged her more times than I can count, but to actuallytouchher the way I’ve been imagining for years is something I will never forget. Her hands felt just as good on me as they traveled against my chest, down my torso—
Knocks sound at the door again, now only a few feet from me, which causes the dogs to start up again. I’m definitely getting into some kind of trouble with Fran and Cordie.
And since I was thinking about Skylar and her hands, I get to answer the door with a very obvious boner.
Fantastic.
I really should have been a little bit more skeptical about who was knocking on my door in the middle of the night, but then again, if we had an ax murderer on the loose, I’m pretty sure Fran would have told us by now, so I think I’m safe to answer the door.
Unless Fran is at the door? I shake my head. No. The knocks came before the barking. They caused the barking. Skylar has my head completely muddled and I don’t think I ever want to think clearly again.
I grab Oscar, the tabby kitten sitting in front of the door, before opening it to four rosy-cheeked women, bundled in winter clothes all now ogling my bare chest and the kitten I am cradling against it.
“Daaaaaaamn, Sinclair,” comes a voice from the right I immediately recognize as Charlotte.
I’m assuming the other two women are Avery and Sophie, but all I can see is Skylar in front of me, looking anywhere but my chest and definitely nowhere below it.
“You alright there, sweetheart?” My voice comes out much calmer than I feel. The burst of cold wind whispers across my chest causing goosebumps—among other things—to rise on my chest. The only warmth is coming from the small body I have pressed against me, which two out of four of the girls have noticed.
Avery and Sophie start doting over the kitten and I feel him being pulled from my hands while I keep staring at Sky, because I just can’t seem to look away.
I see the flit of her eyes and I wonder how much she has thought about our time in the studio. Has she thought about my hands on her as much as I have? Does she want it to happen again? Is she thinking about it now like I am?
The intensity in her eyes tells me that, yes, she does want it to happen again and suddenly, I really wish I had some kind of superpower that would allow me to send the other people on this porch immediately elsewhere.
“Okaaaaayyyy, if you two are done fantasizing about ripping each others’ clothes off, can we please come in? I’m freezing my balls off.”
“Always so charming, Charlotte,” I say with a grin. It took a while to get used to Charlotte, but I like her. She doesn’t hesitate to say what’s on her mind and she doesn’t really care if it makes people uncomfortable. She’s herself and she’s proud of that. And she’s a really good friend. Especially to Skylar.
Stepping aside, I gesture them in, trying my best to shuffle the animals out of the way. Most of them are good about staying down, but there’s a fair few who like to push their boundaries and jump on guests as soon as they arrive—which usually results in deep red scratches on their arms and legs.
The girls immediately make themselves at home, each giving multiple animals their attention, allowing some of the dogs to lick their faces.
“Mo’ money, mo’ problems.”
“What the fuck was that?” Charlotte asks.
“Ah, that would be Frank,” I answer with a nod in his direction.
“Oh, yes, that makes sense. Thank you for clarifying absolutely nothing, Jacob,” Charlotte responds, dryly.
